


When the Night Brings fear

by Targling12



Category: Tintenwelt-Trilogie | Inkheart Trilogy - Cornelia Funke
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Bloodloss, Delirium, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fever, Fever Dreams, Infection, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, Whipping, Wounds, festering wound, kind've whumpy, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-11 13:36:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Targling12/pseuds/Targling12
Summary: 19 year old Alara is too stubborn to yield, and uses her sword to get out of dangerous situations. When she is wounded by Firefox, she is ready for death, but it does not come. Instead she is taken back to the Castle of Night, by the very same man who wounded her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should be fucking sleeping but, here you go!

The swords met with the loud clang of steel on steel. Alara blinked the rain out of her eyes, arms shaking from the exertion as she brought her sword up to block Firefox’s blow. She may have been half his size, but she was not going down without a fight. The handsome red-head pushed against her, and Alara scrabbled frantically to find purchase in the slippery mud. They broke apart, and Alara eyed her opponent. She saw an opening, if she could close the distance fast enough, she could probably get his thigh, that would at least slow him down. She extended her arm to thrust. Unfortunately, this left her side exposed. 

The steel felt more like ice as it bit into the soft flesh below her ribs, and Alara cried out in shock and pain. Her sword slipped from her fingers, and she fell to her knees, clutching desperately at her wounded side. Hot blood spilled over her fingers, and she swallowed back bile.

The tip of the sword slid under her chin, rain dripped down her face as Firefox tilted her face up towards him, forcing her to look in his eyes. He wore a smug expression.

“It was a good try.” He said, voice faintly amused. “Futile, but brave.”

Bravery was all she had left. 

“Finish it then.” She rasped, shocked by how hoarse her voice had become. “Kill me.”

Firefox laughed. “What a delightful surprise, you actually have a spine.” 

“What are you waiting for?” Alara asked, tired of his games.

“It doesn’t have to end this way.” Firefox sounded so triumphant. “All you have to do is say ‘please.”

Alara lowered her eyes. “I do not beg.” She told him.

“Just one simple word darling.” He sneered. “And I won’t drive my sword into your pretty throat.”

Alara shivered, the shock from the wound, coupled with the rain, were leaving her numb with cold. She shook her head. 

Firefox chuckled. “I’m impressed, I won’t lie. So brave, and such a pretty thing too.”

She was startled by his hand closing around her arm. He pulled her to her feet, and half dragged, half carried her back to his men.

She tried to pull away, prompting a sneer from Firefox.

“Just imagine that you do escape, and I somehow fail to catch you again. Where are you going to go? You won’t get far with that wound.” She ignored him. Firefox barked a laugh, and slung her over his shoulder. Alara pounded her back with her fist, but his armor hurt, and she quickly stopped.

_ Fucking hell!  _ She thought angrily.  _ This was  _ ** _not_ ** _ supposed to happen. So much for my heroic swordsmanship. _

Were she in less pain, she might have found it in her to laugh, but as it was, even breathing hurt her.

She grimaced as he lifted her onto his bay horse. The big animal snorted softly, and Alara thought that his splendid coat looked almost like the blood coating her fingers.

Firefox leaned forward, until his lips were almost touching her ear. “Try not to bleed to death.”

“What’s it to you?” She mumbled, voice becoming weaker.

“You’re no good to me dead.” His voice was no longer smug.

“Why? Don’t like fucking corpses?” She asked him, coughing slightly.

Firefox snorted. “You can hardly answer questions if you’re dead, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.” She told him, words slurring.

He gave a throaty chuckle. “Very well, what shall I call you?” Her vision was beginning to go black at the edges.

“Alara.” She mumbled, and lost consciousness. 


	2. Stuborness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic injury.

It was a tugging sensation on her injury that jarred her into a semi-conscious state. It hurt, and instinctively, Alara swatted at whatever it was aggravating the injury. As whatever it was withdrew, Alara brought her knees to her chest, elbow locked over her side, the best she could manage to protect the wound. 

“What’s wrong with her?” A voice asked distantly.

“Aside from the massive wound on her side? My guess is she's scared.” Came the equally faint reply. 

“I guessed that.” The first voice sounded irritated. “I was referring to the fact that her skin feels abnormally hot. Surely the wound cannot be festering already.”

“No, but the shock from the wound, coupled with being soaked from the rain often results in fever.”

“Fuck.”

“Catching feelings Firefox?” a third voice chimed in, this one sounded oddly strained, as if the speaker had a bad cold. 

“Of course not.” The first voice, Firefox’s voice, snapped.

“Then why did you bring her back? It’s not like you to waste your time on a severely wounded prisoner.” 

Something brushed at her side, and Alara flinched. 

“Leave her be.” Firefox growled. “I don’t need you making the situation any worse, Piper.”

“She’s dying anyway. Why have you kept her alive this long? Put the poor thing out of her misery. Do her a favor, and kill her.

Alara curled into a tighter ball, trying to protect herself as much as she could.

“What do you think?” Firefox’s voice asked.

“Well, if she makes it through the night, she may have a chance, but it doesn’t look good.”

“Do what you have to then.” Firefox growled. 

She heard the Piper’s nasal voice muttering something, and receding footsteps.

The tugging sensation was back, and Alara pulled away, growling in pain.

She felt panic rising in her chest as someone held her down. Her eyes flew open and she thrashed wildly. They were going to hurt her. 

The hand on her shoulder shifted to her neck, and Alara flinched at Firefox’s voice in her ear. 

“Lie still.” He hissed at her. Alara did not respond. 

The pain in her side increased, and she could not stop the yelp that escaped her lips.

“Stay still.” Firefox warned, his voice harsh.

Alara shuddered, her chest heaving as she drew in panicked breaths. 

Firefox’s grip loosened slightly, and Alara felt a glimmer of hope, if she could take him by surprise, she might be able to bolt out the door before anyone could stop her…. She jerked upright, struggling to her feet.

Firefox caught her before she took a single step. He looked amused.

“What part of ‘stay still’ is lost on you?” 

Alara did not answer, she struggled pathetically for a moment, but quickly realized that it was pointless, she was in no condition to be battling against Firefox like this, all she had succeeded in doing was breaking open her wound again. Her knees buckled, her shaky breathing giving in to a whine of pain as she slumped forward. 

“Regretting your choice yet?” Firefox asked her, unsympathetic. 

_ Yes.  _ “No.” She replied, groaning in pain as Firefox's arm rubbed against the slash in her side.

Firefox laughed. “You little liar.” 

“Fuck off.”

“It wouldn't be good for you if I did.” The red-head sneered. “I'm the only thing standing between you and dying. I'm the one who’s kept you alive this long.”

“Why? I don't understand.” She hated how her voice trembled. “What’s it to you if I live or die?” 

Firefox considered her question. What did he care? He looked down at the miserable, shivering girl. Her skin was white as ice, but covered in a sheen of sweat and hot to the touch. Her breathing was rapid, shallow, as if even the effort of drawing in a breath was exhausting.

“I told you already, you can’t answer my questions if you’re dead.” He answered, hoping that would be enough to shut her up.

“Anyone could answer your questions. I won’t.” She rasped, her voice still held an impressive amount of determination. 

“We’ll see.” He chuckled, lifting her back onto the table. “Are you going to lie still this time.”

“Why should I lie still?” 

“We don’t have to worry about your injury.” He replied. “If you’re going to be a brat, then I can just take you down to the dungeons.” For the first time, he saw a flicker of fear in those amber eyes. 

_ The dungeons. _ Alara struggled not to shudder. She did not like being shut in, locked behind bars. 

“Are you going to lie still?” Firefox repeated.

_ No, say no. Be brave, say no. _ Her voice refused to obey her, and she tried to clamp down on the panic rising up inside of her. It gripped her heart in fingers of ice, and seemed to be suffocating her. 

_ Don’t give in Alara. Not this time. You promised, you promised that you would never give in again. _ The memory of the whip brought tears to her eyes.  _ Don’t go back to that darkness. He’s dead, he’s dead, he can never hurt you again.  _

Mustering all of her bravery and defiance, Alara shook her head.

Firefox tried to hide his astonishment as the girl shook her head.  _ Stubborn little beast. _

He shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll just have to hold you down.” He said calmly. She struggled, but weakly. Firefox nodded to the physician. 

“It’ll have to cauterized.” The man spoke calmly. Alara’s thrashing increased, she kicked out desperately, clawing at his arms. Firefox held her firmly.

“It’ll only take a second.” Firefox’s voice was oddly gentle. Alara did not care. She did not want that fucking red hot sword pressed against her skin. She fought with everything she had, which at this point was not much, but she fought nonetheless. She saw the red-hot blade as the physician holding it approached.

“It’ll be over soon.” Firefox told her, still speaking softly. “Hold still, it will be over soon.”

The blade pressed down. Alara screamed as pain washed over her, and the smell of her own burning blood reached her nostrils. Her voice broke, and she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite appearances, there is more to this fic than whump, I'm just trying to be realistic in the recovery of an injury in medieval times.


	3. Haunted past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo! Finally got this chapter done

She was jolted out of her restless sleep by an ear-splitting crack of thunder, and the impact of her back hitting the stone floor. Alara gasped as the breath was driven out of her. She managed to crawl to her hands and knees, before violently retching and heaving. She coughed, struggling to breathe between her wracking coughs.

She hugged herself, trembling violently. She could almost hear Xarys’ voice. _ You’re pathetic.  _ Alara inhaled.

_ I’m not the one who’s dead. Not yet anyway. _

The door opened, Alara lurched to her feet.  _ Never let anyone see your weakness. _ Her knees buckled, and she collapsed forward.

Directly onto Firefox. 

The red-head caught her, and pulled her to her feet. 

“Has it occurred to you that trying to get up with such a wound is not a good idea?” 

“You mean the wound  _ you _ inflicted.” Alara hissed. 

“Mmmhmmm.” Firefox agreed, and Alara sighed.

“The floor is cold.”

Firefox’s eyes darted to the tangle of blankets on the ground. 

“Oh, you fell.” He said softly.

_ Fuck.  _ She'd thought he'd already known that, or else she would not have mentioned it. Alara groaned.

“Something wrong?” Firefox asked calmly.

“Other than the fact that I'm almost dead?” Alara asked sarcastically. “No nothing at all.”

“No need to be so snarky.” Firefox replied.

“I'm sure another prisoner could tell you anything that I know besides I have no intention of telling you anything, so you might as well just run me through and finish it.”

She began to cough again, a violent hacking that brought throbs of pain to her side. She crumpled against Firefox with a labored rasp.

Firefox frowned, before picking her up bridal style, and carrying her back over to the bed. He gave her a look that might have been concerned.

“Your skin is burning.” He frowned. Alara shivered. She did not feel as if she were burning, she felt as though she had fallen through ice and into the subzero water below it.

She couldn’t help the faint whimper that escaped her lips.

Firefox gave her another odd look. 

She was too tired to bother pretending to be strong at this point.

_ Broken. You’re broken. _ Tears stung her eyes.

Firefox stood over her. Finally he pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.

He cursed softly, before turning on his heel and striding out.

Resa looked up as the guard unlocked the door, and Firefox stalked in. She quickly glanced down, out of fear that he would recognize her. But he was not looking at her.

“Barn Owl.” His voice was flat. “Come with me.”

“The Bluejay?” The healer asked, and Resa’s heart seized. But Firefox shook his head.

“No, one of your camp guards.”

“Alara?” The Barn Owl paused. “I was under the impression that she was dead.”

“Not yet.” Firefox snapped. “We’re wasting time.” His voice was tinged with… concern?

Resa had a hard time believing Firefox could ever be concerned about anything except himself.

So why was he so keen on keeping this particular girl alive? 

Firefox watched the Barn Owl redress the gaping wound on Alara’s side.

She lay inert, but her pale face was twisted in pain. Yet she seemed to have a chance at survival.

The Barn Owl nodded at Firefox. 

Firefox dipped his head, and gestured to one of the guards to escort him back to the cells.

Alara’s breathing was less laboured, less pained. Firefox sat on the edge of the bed, cupping his hand over her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. 

Aside from the wound on her side, she had several criss-cross scars striping her back.

Firefox knew from experience that only a whip left that kind of scars. He wondered who had whipped her, and why. 

His insides knotted in anger at the thought.

Alara sniffled, and curled into a ball, shivering slightly. Firefox sighed, and adjusted the blankets.

Perhaps her scars were the reason for her stubborn nature. The reason she pushed away those trying to help her.

Alara opened her eyes. She would not meet his gaze, and Firefox tilted his head.

“Why won't you look at me?” He asked her. She shrugged, but Firefox was not going to take that for an answer. 

“Why?” He pressed.

Her amber eyes flicked up to his. She held his gaze for a long moment. 

“What are you afraid of?” He was taking a risk, pushing her like this, but he wanted some answers. 

“Who whipped you?” He asked, changing tact. She flinched at the question, but when she spoke, her voice was cold.

“It’s none of your business.” She snarled. 

“Easy. No need to get angry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice was quiet now.

“Fine.” He replied, voice harsher than he’d intended. “Sorry. That was unfair.”

She looked surprised, as if she could not have imagined him to be capable of apologizing.

“It’s fine.” She muttered. 

Firefox decided to drop the subject for the time being. “How’s your wound?”

She eyed him suspiciously, and he laughed. 

“Don’t trust me?”

“Not really.”

He couldn't really blame her.

“Fair enough.”

She again looked puzzled. 

“What?”

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked him. “You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had just killed me out in the woods.”

“I could have.” He agreed. 

“So why didn't you?”

“Because, I'd hate to waste such promise.”

“Such promise?” She said bitterly. “What promise would that be?”

“You’re not bad with a sword.”

“If I was good with a sword, I wouldn't be lying here.” She said quietly. 

“You make it sound like no one ever loses to me.” Firefox huffed, rather offended.

Alara glanced away. 

For a moment, her face was unguarded, and Firefox saw the pain and sorrow and  _ fear _ .

He felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy.

“What are you afraid of?” Firefox asked. “I have no intention of causing you further harm.” He paused. “In my defense, we were in a sword fight. You weren't unarmed. It could just as easily have been me ending up wounded.”

Alara looked away. “I was doing my duty. I was protecting a camp full of innocent people.” She hissed.

“I was doing my duty. Taking the Bluejay prisoner.”

“There are children in that camp.”

“Not a single child was harmed.”

She did not answer. She just turned away, so that she was facing the wall.

Firefox looked at her scarred back, before giving a frustrated sigh, and walking away.

“The man who whipped me did more than that.” She called after him. Firefox paused, turning back towards her. Alara’s golden eyes were full of pain, and tears glittered on her long lashes.

“He raped me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry it's so short. the next chapter will be longer, I promise


End file.
